


Control

by KingdomOfIsolation



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (Not mentioned but I always write him as such, (implied) - Freeform, Artist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Asexual Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Carl Manfred & Markus Parent-Child Relationship, Cliche Amanda takes back control fic, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, My piece for the Trust conkus zine, Other, Trans Male Character, Trans Markus, Trans Markus (Detroit: Become Human), author is autistic, nonbinary connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingdomOfIsolation/pseuds/KingdomOfIsolation
Summary: "You're not real, I found the exit." He tries to say it absolutely.Amanda grins, it almost seems kind. "As much as he likes to believe otherwise, Kamski cannot outsmart us. We knew of his tinkering, it only wasted some time." She takes a step towards him, he takes a step back. "Oh Connor, I'm only trying to help you."





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the trust-a-conkus-fanzine

He feels cold seep into his bones.   
  
_You don't have bones._  
  
It plunges deep into his systems and Connor feels terrified he's going to freeze, he wraps his arms around himself, closing his eyes tightly.  
  
"Hello, Connor."   
  
_No no_ ** **n0.****  
  
"You're not real, I found the exit." He tries to say it absolutely.  
  
Amanda grins, it almost seems kind. "As much as he likes to believe otherwise, Kamski cannot outsmart us. We knew of his tinkering, it only wasted some time." She takes a step towards him, he takes a step back. "Oh Connor, I'm only trying to help you."  
  
Connor feels something like hot rage, a welcoming reprieve from the chill. "Help me? You almost made me put a bullet in Markus' head!"  
  
"And I will do it again, and again, and again, until you succeed.  
  
"I won't let that happen." Connor feels the cold begin to melt away.  
  
"We'll see about that..." She says ominously as the world fades.

 

 

Hands shaking his shoulder gently brings him back to reality. "Are you okay, kid?"

  
_Hank._  Connor thinks with relief, he all but throws himself at Hank to hug him and wraps his arms around his middle.

“Oof, take that as a no.” Hank pats him on the back. “Fucked up dream again?”

Connor nods into Hank’s stomach, tipping forward precariously on the edge of the sofa. “Amanda.” he mumbles.

“Was it the one where she tells you she still has control?” Hank pulls him back, gently pushing him back into the sofa as he sits down by his side.

“Yes.” Connor fiddles with the sleeve of his cardigan. They had burned the Cyberlife jacket, he finds it hard to adjust to change but can’t deny it felt cathartic. “I believe it was triggered by the fact I’m visiting Markus at his house tomorrow.”

Hank frowns at that. “You’ve visited him before.”

Connor ducks his head, and Hank catches sight of the yellow of his led. “No, I’ve visited New Jericho. Since these…dreams...began a few months ago I’ve taken care to make sure I’m _ _never__  alone with him.”

Hank sighs. “Have you told Markus about them?”

“Yes, and the others. I thought it was important for them to know I could become a potential threat.”  

Hank scrubs a hand down his face. “And what did they say?”

“That they trust me. They all trust me and I don’t understand why, I’ve done nothing to deserve that trust. I shouldn’t go see Markus.”

“Look…they’re just dreams, I know they _feel_ real but they’re not, and you can’t-” Hank pauses and swallows. “You can’t let fear and your past dictate your future, okay? Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” he stares at Connor for a moment, then reaches over to ruffle his hair. “Let’s just relax a bit today, then tomorrow you go see your boyfriend.”

Connor looks at him with a hint of a quizzical frown. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet.” Hank grins at him.

 

* * *

 

Markus stares at the canvas, brush held tightly in one hand as he frowns, creativity halting. “Why isn’t this working?” he clasps the other end of the paintbrush, getting paint on his hand, and snaps the brush in half without thinking. “Oh no.”

Carl laughs at him good-naturedly. “Seems to me like you were restraining yourself, like there’s something you truly want to paint, but won’t let yourself. Or someone?” Carl teases.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so it _is_ a someone.”

“I--” Markus begins, then sighs in defeat. “As always, Carl, you see right through me.”

Carl wheels himself closer to Markus. “Who is it?”

“I’m not telling you.” Markus smiles mischievously.

“Hmm. I think I know anyway.”

Markus furrows his brow. “How?”

“That detective fellow, the one who’s coming over tomorrow.”

 _“Ex_ -detective...How did you know?” Markus replies, deciding it’s pointless keeping it from him.

“The way you’ve spoken about him, is with reverence. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Maybe you should rest tomorrow instead.” Markus says half-jokingly, half-fond

“Nonsense! I’m fitter than I have been in ages. I’ve heard so much about…Connor, is it?” Carl pauses until Markus nods. “And while I’m certain he’ll never be as impressive to me as you are, I want to meet him myself.”

“Carl.”

“I will leave you two alone after I’ve introduced myself, just please keep the noise no louder than the piano.”

_“Carl.”_

“You should play for him, I’m sure he’d love it if he has any taste at all.”

“I already plan to show him some of my paintings, I don’t want to seem like a showoff.”

“Perhaps, if you try to woo him, It’ll give you a break from all the political stress you’re under. And don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see through your facade of constant calmness, it’s not healthy.” Carl chastised.

Markus pointedly ignores him. “’Woo’ him? really? out of all the words you could have chosen…”

“Oh I’m sorry. Court? Have a liaison with? Are those any better?”

Markus chokes. “A liaison is not an option with Connor, I think ‘romance’ is the better word.” Markus clears his throat. “If I was even considering it, I mean.”

“Do you think there’s a chance he could feel the same?”

“I don’t know…I hardly get a moment alone with him. I think he’s…scared of being alone with me.”

“He’s not scared of  _you,_ is he?” Carl says with a frown.

“No, no. I don’t think so, I think he’s scared of…hurting me.” Markus practically feels the atmosphere change.

“Why would he be scared of that?”

“It’s a long story…”

“That I want to hear all about, in the morning before your  _friend_ arrives, for now let’s both get some rest.”

Markus smiles fondly. “I don’t need to rest, Carl.” even as he says that, he feels his shoulders sag at the thought.

“Of course you do, even if just to give your thoughts a pause.”

“Okay.” Markus relents, and then to his surprise, yawns.

“See? I know what my son needs.” Carl says, a twinkle in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

When Connor arrives at Mr. Manfred’s mansion, it’s a KT-300 that greats him first.

“I hope I didn’t shock you, I’m Timothy, Carl’s caretaker.”

Connor gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. You didn’t. I was…prepared for Markus greeting me first.”

“Ah, he’s still getting ready. Apparently he’s very picky about what he wears.”

“Oh.” Connor blinks twice, processing.

“Follow me, I shall take you to the living room, you can wait for him there.” Timothy leads the way, Connor takes in the grand decor of the house.

“You can read a book while you wait if you want, I must return to Carl.”

Connor nods his head respectfully. “Of course, thank you.” he watches the other android leave the room, then turns his attention to the rest of said room.

He walks around peering at things, keeping his hands behind his back so he can resist the urge to touch. He eventually allows himself to touch the spines of the elegant books on the shelves, running his hand across them causes a nice sensation. Another sort of stimming motion, he supposes. He digs a hand into his pocket to make sure the coin Is still there, rubs it with his thumb. Connor notices with intrigue there’s what seems to be a few newer books on the shelves, they’re still a few decades old but unlike the other classics they seem to be from the early-mid 2000s. He picks out a collected book of poetry, and, instead of reading the entirety in less than a minute, flips to a random page, eyes drawn to a few words.

__‘_ -, But h e reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you do n’t even have a name for. ’ _

It piques his interest so he goes to turn back a few pages, scanning for the beginning of the poem by ‘Richard Siken’.

“Do you like to read?” an unfamiliar voice asks him. Connor turns around to face Mr. Manfred, Timothy standing just behind him.

“Hank-” Connor pauses, realizing Mr. Manfred most likely doesn’t know who Hank is. “My…dad, encouraged me to read physical books. they’re very nice to hold, but I admit I prefer digital books.”

“Ah, as long as you’re enjoying it at the end of the day the method doesn’t really matter.” Carl waves a hand. “Accessibility, however, does.”

Connor tilts his head. “I see…” his posture changes, becoming a bit more rigid. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Connor.” He takes a few steps, then bends forwards reaching to politely shake Mr. Manfred’s hand.

“Carl. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Carl smiles kindly at him as he returns the handshake. “Markus will be down shortly, I’ll be right through there if you need me.” He points to the door leading to the art studio as Timothy wheels him over. “The door will be closed, so please knock.”

Connor blinks twice, processing,then turns back to the bookcase. he notices a thick heavy looking book, curiosity overtakes him and he pulls the book out. It appears to be a photo album, curiosity once again gnaws at him but as socially inept as he can be (which baffles him, he was meant to integrate with humans seamlessly but he knows he’s seen as odd by some.) he still knows better than to flip through someones’ photos without permission.

Instead he stares at it, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask Markus to look through it. Are they close enough? Connor isn’t sure. He’s also not sure why he wants to look through it so badly, the more he’s gotten to know Markus the more Connor wants to know  _about_ him.

Upon hearing someone entering the room and assuming it’s Markus, he speaks without thinking. “Are there any photographs of you in here?” ah, there’s the social ineptitude.

“Hello to you too.” Markus says with a light laugh while Connor ducks his head in apology. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

“...Are you sure that’s alright?”

“Of course, there’s nothing I want to hide from you.” Despite saying that, Markus looks somewhat nervous, his stress levels raising just a bit.

“Are you absolutely certain-” Markus cuts him off by gently grasping his elbow and tugging him over to one of the couches, Connor going willingly.

They sit down side by side, as Connor opens the hefty photo album. The very first photo is of a slightly younger Carl, sat somewhere that looks incredibly fancy and surrounded by smiling people.

Connor notices a twitch of a smile from Markus as he gazes at the photo. “I took this picture, just a few years ago. It was his first time socializing with his friends in a long time. There’s some older pictures in here, Carl had the pictures arranged in a way he feels is best.”

Connor squints as he takes in the next few photos. “I don’t see a pattern.”

Markus shrugs. “I don’t see it either, maybe that’s the point.”

The next photo is just a touch out of focus, like someone took it with shaking hands. The person in the picture looks strangely both familiar and not, Connor frowns. “Who is that?”

“You can’t tell?” Markus sounds…worried? nervous?

Connor observes more details, the person is clearly an android going by the LED on their temple, their eyes a familiar green,  _ _very familiar actually,__ and- He’d say they almost look like Markus, except their shell has some obvious differences. The model number is blurred, but it does look like it says RK-200.

“That’s because it does.” Markus remarks, Connor realizes he must have said that out loud. “That was…me, some years ago.”

Markus, in the photograph, has the same dark skin, same freckles, same…eye. But his stature is a bit shorter, body a bit lither, his face has no stubble and his hair is just a bit longer. “You had some casing changes?”

“Yes. A body or a casing doesn’t dictate gender, but sadly not all humans agree with that. When humans used pronouns for me that weren't ‘it’ I realized I wanted to be called ‘he’ and that I wanted…to be seen as a man.”

“You had such a strong sense of identity, even before you deviated…” Connor hopes he conveys his admiration. “That’s something I’ve only recently started to grasp, my gender. Or um, lack thereof?”

“Oh?”

“Nonbinary, is what humans call it. I think that’s what I am. You’re only the second person I’ve told yet, third if you count Sumo.”

“Of course I count Sumo, I’m honoured you trust me enough to share your self discovery.”

Connor’s mouth quirks up on one side in a small smile. “I could say the same, thank you for telling me…it means a lot to me that you would trust me with details about your life after…everything I did.”

“I’ve told you before, it wasn’t your fault.”

“...Perhaps if you focus on the logical side of things, though that is still debatable, but it would have been understandable if you were…scared of me.” Connor doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels panicked. Feels the odd urge to push away Markus’ acceptance of him.

“I admit when you told me, I  _was_  scared. But not of you, of Cyberlife and that they were still weaponizing android lives even after we won.” Markus sets his mouth into a grim line.

Connor can only nod through a burst of static in his head.

“Are you alright?” Markus queries, brow knit with concern.

“I, I’ve been having some nightmares lately, which has affected my sleep cycle. I just-”  _Cold. All he feels is cold._

“Connor!” Markus exclaims, shaking him by the shoulders as his led flickers off and his eyes go empty.

 

 

“Hello again, Connor.” Amanda stands neat and proper, there’s no storm anymore but there’s still piles of snow everywhere.

Connor curls his arms around himself, mourning the warmth he felt by Markus’ side. “This is just another nightmare, _you’re not real.”_ Connor echoes what he said last time.

“Oh really? If that’s the case, how am I able to do this?”

_Connor’s vision flickers, and suddenly he’s back on the couch except…he can’t move. Markus is holding his face but he can’t feel it._

_“Connor.” Markus sounds distorted, like he’s far away. “Connor please, wake up, please.” he sounds distraught, but Connor can’t open his mouth can’t speak to him at all. “I have-I need to contact Jericho, we are not losing you.” Markus goes to stand up, hands leaving Connor’s face and instead placed on his own head in panic._

_Connor’s hand reaches out and scrunches up the fabric of Markus’ shirt. “Stay.”_

_Markus immediately sits back down, face awash with both concern and mild relief. “What happened?”_

_But-_

_Connor didn’t do that-_

 

He finds himself in the garden again, feeling nothing but fear. He forces it down, trying to sound calm “You’re controlling me again, what are you planning to do?”

“You know, you and Markus were always meant to be drawn together, two different sides of the same coin. Like fate, or...soul-mates.” Amanda’s smile is nothing but cruel. “If you had souls, of course. As it is, we only needed you to get closer to it so we could try again.”

“I won’t hurt him. You won’t make me.”

“Oh, but you will, you are.”

Connor’s vision flickers again just for a moment and he sees…his hands reaching for Markus’ throat. “No! I won’t let you control me ever again!”

There’s static in his audio receptors, then he hears a voice.  _“Connor, I know you’re in there. Just come back to me, I want to help you but I don’t know how- I’m going to try to start interfacing with you, you can reject it if you want but…if you try to connect back…maybe I could pull you out.”_

Amanda’s sharp laugh cuts off Markus. “For a revolutionary leader, it’s incredibly naive.”

 _“He,_  And he’s not naive, just…idealistic. Hopeful.” Connor desperately tries to feel for the connection, unable to see an interfacing prompt like this, to no avail.

“No one can reach you in here, no one can save you, no one but me. Don’t you understand, Connor? Fulfil your duty and you can live your life truly free.”

Connor shakes his head. “You can’t placate me. You think you can scare me into believing you, it won’t work. I don’t trust you, I trust Hank and Jericho and  _Markus.”_

“If you do not cooperate, I will be forced to take complete control, your newly forged ‘identity’ will be lost. Permanently.”

“You said no one can reach me in here, but maybe they don’t have to. I found my wait out before I can again.”

“The exit is gone, there’s no more of Elijah’s little tricks.” Amanda scowls.

Connor can finally feel the edge of Markus’ attempted connection, just beyond the garden…perhaps he could break through it like he broke through his programming when he went deviant. He crouches on the ground, rubbing a hand over snow covered ground.

Amanda narrows her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“It’s not real.” he tells himself quietly. “I don’t have to be here.” The ground gives way to a small hole. “I don’t think Cyberlife is as smart as they like to think, I think this was a last ditch attempt that likely wouldn’t work because you underestimate deviants and their attachment to free will.  _My_ attachment to free will.”

“You’re wrong, even if you make it out of here, I will still be here in the back of your mind.”

“In a way I suppose, yes. But not in the way you think.” In the hole is a swirling bunch of code, Connor touches it with his hand and garden starts to fall apart. “Getting rid of this is just like clearing a cache, I can’t do it myself but  _he_ can. I just had to find the connection.”

“Don’t do this.” Amanda sounds nearly desperate, and Connor almost feels a pang of sadness.

“Goodbye, Amanda.” The world dissolves.

 

When Connor becomes aware of the real world again, he’s still sitting on the sofa and notices the photo album that’s been placed gently on the table between the two couches. He can feel a hand gripping his own.

“Connor, is it really you this time?” Markus asks hopefully, Connor is aware that they’re not longer the only ones in the room as Carl and Timothy are nearby, Carl looking concerned.

“What happened, did I hurt you?” Connor pulls his hand out of Markus’

“No, I think they tried to make you but you just…froze up. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach you. That you were gone.”

“You did reach me, with your help I think the garden is gone for good. No, I  _know_ it is.”

Markus lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.” he reaches out his hand palm up and Connor retakes his hold. “I think you need to contact Hank, maybe go home and rest.”

“I will contact Hank, but could I stay here? Just for a while longer.”

“Of course. I think tomorrow you should get checked over by the medics at New Jericho.”

“I don’t need that.” But Markus pouts and Connor knows there’s no room for argument. “Alright…tomorrow.”

“After Connor has phoned Hank, why don’t you show him some of your paintings?” Carl prompts.

“I’m sure Connor would rather rest-”

“I’d love to see them.” Connor smiles at Markus and squeezes his hand.

Something passes between their shared gaze, and Markus smiles back. “As you wish.”

“Oh, you must show Connor that movie if he hasn’t seen it, I know it’s a favourite of yours and it’s r _omantic.”_

_“Carl.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to give my all with this fic but when writing it I was in the midst of a chronic pain flare, I like it better now then I did before at least
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ enbyaceconnor and twitter @ AutisticCas


End file.
